Thanks A Lot England, You've Created Evil
by GemIInII Dragon
Summary: 1p meets 2p! England casts an age old enchantment that goes terribly wrong. Rated M for "scenes", violence, and cussing. First story, please review what you think I could improve.
1. The Model

After so long, it finally resurfaced in England's ancient attic. Covered in layers of dust so thick it put a milkshake to shame. The little replica of the World Conference building…

England was so bored. He had finished his book series, it was too early for lunch and he had already eaten breakfast, none of the decent company keeping countries were available, and on top of that; England had no technology (beside his CD player) to entertain himself with! Plus, he was feeling too tired to cast some random magic spells to bother people with.

With absolutely nothing else he could think of to do, England heads up to go through the stuff in his attic. It had to have been… about 50 years before America became his little brother since he last even opened the door to his attic. _'Wonder what on Earth is up there. Probably a few spiders, old books, uniforms, and a couple of other assorted things.'_ England wondered as he wrapped his hand around the door knob of the attic. After a few deep breaths, he holds his breath, and swings the door open.

He his immediately greeted by a ginormous cloud of dust! He turns and runs down half the flight of stairs behind him, glad he had held his breath. He waited for the dust to settle, before he walked back up. He coughed a couple times, "Bloody Hell. I know it's been a long time, but that was a LOT of dust!" He carefully walks through the doorway and looks around.

His suspicions had been correct. Piles and piles of old books and photo albums, incredibly old uniforms (including one from the Revolutionary War, sadly), and a couple spiders crawled upon cobwebs and wooden beams. England was delighted to find a large plethora of candles about, seeing as how his attic had no electricity.

It took him quite a while, but he finally got everything lit and could now see much better. He spent a few minutes searching a trunk, and when he finished, he heaved it out of the way to continue looking. Nothing had really been in the trunk. A bunch of old suits and papers he no longer needed. But what was behind the trunk, truly caught his eye.

Behind the trunk, resided the old replica of the World Conference building. "Dear God! I remember this. Gosh, it's been so long." He carefully picked it up and rested it on a table. "The layers of dust on this old thing are so thick it puts a milkshake to shame." Glad that he found something decent to do instead of digging around and getting dirty, England blew out the candles and carried the building replica downstairs.

After about 30 minutes of cleaning himself up and the hallways he walked in to get rid of all the dust and grime, and also setting up some cleaning supplies to clean the replica building; England was now sitting down to begin cleaning said replica.

As he cleaned it, England thought about how long it took to make it. It had taken him 7 months of his free time to carve the replica, then as a finishing touch, he enchanted it! He enchanted it so that, as time passed, the replica would change as the World Conference building changed; and so the tiny little replicas of the countries that reside inside, would change as well (or add new ones as time goes on, such as America). But for some reason, after the replica people were made with a magic spell in a very old language [possibly Latin], they looked a bit… strange.

The little people had random looks about them that were changed from what the original looked like. England never understood why they looked so odd, but no matter! He scrubbed and rinsed, and brushed and washed, and finally; after a couple hours of cleaning, the little replica was nicely and properly cleaned.

"Ah, there we go. All nice and clean."

"HEY BRITAIN! Whacha doing?" England jumped about a foot in the air when America yelled from right behind him.

"YOU BLOODY WANKER! Why are you in my house?" Alfred had his usual confident smile as Arthur glared daggers at him.

"I came to see what you were up to. Besides, we have a World Conference in, like, and hour, dude." Upon hearing it, Arthur finally remembered about the World Conference.

"Well, since you asked, I was cleaning up an old replica of the World Conference building that I carved about 50 years before you were discovered." As he spoke, Arthur moved to show Alfred the little replica.

"Wow. That's really old, but really well made. Geez, where has it been all this time."

"I found it in my attic this morning, the layers of dust on it were so thick it took me forever to clean." And with that being said he put on his jacket and shoes, and carefully picked up the model. "I'm going to take it with us and show everyone."

"That sounds cool. Whatever you wanna do with it, dude. Come on, let's go!" America and England got into America's car and drove to the World Conference building. And much to England's displeasure, France met them in the lobby.

"Well hello Britain, hello Al." Francis, as usual, was dressed as flashy as physically possible and gave a small wave of his mini-cloak as he approached.

"'Sup French dude? Hey, check out the little model of the building that Arthur carved over six centuries ago!" France looked down at the model in England's hand and smiled.

"I remember that old thing, you spent lots of time on it, oui?"

"Yes, I did spend a lot of time on it. I happy with how it turned out."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Time Skip Because I can~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

The meeting had been, mostly uneventful. Just a couple of fist fights, some yelling matches, and Germany managing to get everyone to sit down. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until…

"Hey everyone! Before we leave I wanted to show you something!" England held up the World Conference building model and smiled, "I carved this about 50 years before France, Finland, and I found America. I just recently found it in my attic, I completely forgot about it until now."

Everyone looked at it and seemed rather impressed by the craftsmanship of it. England explained how he had enchanted it to change with time, and Russia spoke up,

"Question. If you made this so long ago, and the little replicas of us are only there because of magic, that could have created a completely other world in the little replica, da?"

Everyone went silent, and England mulled it over in his head. "You know Russia… I think you might be on to something. The tiny us's have always looked different then the real us's, but… maybe that's why."

"Zat vould be incredibly strange." Ludwig piped up from next to Feli.

"I think it-a would be-a fun!" Feli said next.

"We should probabry see if the worrd is in troubre. If it's there anyway." Kiku made a rational point in that. Who knows what could be happening in there.

For the next couple hours they talked about it, until a fist fight between England and France started up. Again…

"You bloody frog! That's a terrible idea!"

"No it is not!" This continued for a while, and everyone watched, waiting for them to get worn out. But then, France pushes England, sending him flying into the table. Where the model is.

The model splinters as England lands on it and bright light flashes, filling up the room. Startled, everyone runs out the door and slams it shut.

"What is happening?" America asks a bruised Arthur.

"The magic is collapsing. After the model was destroyed, the magic was relea…" Arthur didn't finish his sentence when a thunderous crack came from inside the conference room. They waited. And waited. And waited some more.

Finally after a while, they heard something. Voices. The countries' eyes went wide, and they listened closely. They could just barely make out the words,

"Where the fuck are we?" Unknown voice #1 asked. His voice sounded American.

"How the Hell should I know?" This voice sounded strangely French with another accent mixed in. Canadian perhaps?

"Boys! Stop cursing! You know it bothers me!" This accent was obviously British, but it was also very childish sounding.

Greece then spoke making everyone jump. "They sound similar to the countries we know. But their personalities seem to be completely opposite." This made a lot of sense, and explained why the mini versions of them looked a little off.

"So the mini us's are in our world now?" Canada asked.

"Seems that way. But if their personalities are our opposites, then… What are they actually like?"

They all considered it, and thought the best idea was to walk in and make friends. If possible. America put his hand on the doorknob, and turned it. It had gotten quiet in the room when they had started talking, so Alfred cautiously pushed the door open. But regretted it when it creaked.

A gun sounded, and a hole appeared in the door next to America. He gave a gasp of surprise and fell inside the conference room. And was greeted with a very, strange surprise…


	2. The 2p's

America slowly looked up. When he had fallen inside, he fell at someone's feet. And this someone, looked very familiar. _Very _familiar. "Uhh… He-hey… Arthur? Francis? Someone?"

Upon hearing America calling out, the other countries ran in, but stopped dead in their tracks. _Alfred America_ was on the ground, at the feet, of _another _America. But this America was much bigger.

America #2 had darkly tanned skin, red-brown hair, and bright crimson eyes that put Gilbert's to shame. His dark jeans had tears in them here and there along with dark colored stains; he wore roughed up tennis shoes, a tight black shirt that showed the curves of some of his muscles, a brown bomber jacket similar to Alfred's (but darker in color), and he had red sunglasses perched atop his head. And in his hand, he was leaning on a large baseball bat with wraps and thick iron nails on the end… with similar looking dark stains on the wraps.

America #2 smirked wickedly, "Yo. Stop your groveling! I'm not one for having people at my feet unless their begging me to end their miserable lives!"

Alfred was on his feet immediately, backing up with the rest of the countries. America #2 looked at them with that same cruel smirk. "So… you bastards are the 1p's huh? Our better sides?"

England, thankfully, spoke up, "1p's? We know your personalities are our exact opposites, but what does 1p stand for?"

America #2 rolled his eyes and sighed, "1p stands for 'first person'. You are the 1p's, we are the 2p's, the 'second person's. I'm 2p America. My name is Allen F. Jones. The rest of the 2p's and I have decided that, it would be best if we introduced ourselves to you one by one. So, they are all hiding and I drew the short straw of 'spokesperson'." Allen waited for the 1p's reactions… This mainly consisted of dropped jaws and blank looks.

This time, it was Ludwig who spoke up, "Ja. That vould probably be a good idea. Considering zat zis is already a little over-vhelming anyvay." Allen turned his attention to Ludwig and seemed a little shocked for a moment. This quickly passed however when he remembered that this was 1p Germany.

"Hmm. So," Allen clapped his hands together, "Ask a question about us, or choose someone you want to meet. I suggest leaving the stronger 2p's for last. Except for me, whom you've obviously already met."

The 1p's consulted for a few minutes before settling on meeting another 2p country. "So, who's going to ask the bloody American if we can meet him?" Right after the words left Arthur's mouth, he was pushed in front of everyone else.

Allen looked Arthur up and down, "If you didn't have the accent, or the eyebrows, I wouldn't even think you were Britain." He stated simply.

Not really wanting to know what he meant by that, Arthur managed to get his voice to work, "We've decided to start off with meeting 2p Prussia. Cause the opposite of Gilbert has to be someone quiet and overall pretty laid back, right?"

"Akbar? Quiet, yes. Laid back, yes. Not a threat, Hell no, any less dangerous than any other 2p? Also Hell no. AKBAR!" Allen yelled out 2p Prussia's name over his shoulder, and was answered by the sound of a crow's screech.

A crow as black as night flew down from a high up perch and dove straight towards Allen… they all soon found out why.

"No need to shout." Allen jumped a foot in the air and three feet to his left, revealing a rather sad looking man eating ice-cream. The crow came and landed on this man's shoulder. The man was rather tall, with loose jeans, boots, and a black turtle neck sweater. The sweater fit him well, in contrast to the loose jeans, and actually made his body seem rather attractive by showing off how slender he was. With melancholy blue eyes and scarred pale skin, the first thing that draws attention… was actually his hair. He was silverette, just like Gilbert, but his hair was much longer, flowing all the way down to his mid back. The look of it showed it must be really silky and soft. Almost like a cloud. His voice was low, quiet, and actually pretty calming.

"Dude! Akbar! You do not just waltz up behind somebody like that!" Allen yelled in anger. Akbar seemed completely unaffected by this action, and shrugged, putting another spoonful of ice-cream into his mouth.

"That's… my 2p?" Gilbert stepped forward and looked at Akbar with distaste.

"I like him. He is so much quieter zan you." Ludwig sighed contentedly. Some of the other countries made some little comments on him before Allen spoke again.

"Akbar is pretty straight forward. So, there is nothing really to explain. Who's next?" Akbar turned and walked over to a chair, sitting down, and quietly enjoyed his ice-cream with his crow.

England turned around and Francis gestured to him. Arthur swallowed and turned back to Allen, "2p England?"

If Allen had had a drink in his mouth, he would've spit it out. "O-Oliver?"

"YAY!" Allen cried out as something landed on top of him. This something, turned out to be a man. "'Ello Poppet! Lovely day init? I'm 2p England! My name is Oliver, but you can call me Ollie if you like!" jumping off of Allen, they finally got a good look at Oliver. He was small compared to most everyone else, and was very childish looking. His strawberry blonde hair was tinted pink, he had bright baby blue eyes filled with energy, and his incredibly pale skin was covered with freckles here and there. He had a bright blue bowtie, light tan pants, black dress shoes, a pink long-sleeved shirt, and a light purple/pink-ish vest. But spread across his face was a wide Cheshire grin, showing bright white teeth.

"Well, I suppose a childish man would be my exact opposite, but that's kind of scary." Britain stated.

"Aw! I zink he is absolutely adorable!" Francis cooed over the pink haired man. Oliver and Allen seemed startled at his comment, but Oliver breaks into a large happy smile. Then before Francis can register that Ollie even moved a muscle, Oliver is clinging onto Francis in a giant hug.

"That was so sweet of Blue-Eyed France to say! Nice France, nice. He is so much better than emotionless Frank. Oliver likes Blue-Eyed France!" France's eyes went wide for a moment before he relaxed in the small man's vise like grip.

"Uh, does he always talk about himself in third person like that?" Roderick asked Allen.

"Yup. He has reasons for it though so don't make fun of him for it. Ok! A few things to know about Oliver. #1, don't accept any cupcakes or tea that he offers you. If you piss him off, don't accept anything he offers you, just politely decline. #2, don't cuss around him, it makes him mad. #3, if you hurt him in any way, I will track you down and hospitalize you. And #4, never, EVER… point out his freckles to him. He hates them. Despises them with a dark, fiery passion. Understood?" everyone nodded their heads.

"Um, 2p Austria next?" England was just randomly choosing now. France still stood there smiling while Oliver hugged him to death.

"Grigorovich!" Allen called. Not even a minute later, a man in black and red stalked up to the group. This particular man wore black dress pants, black dress shoes, and a red trench coat with golden buttons. He had ink black hair so glossy it looked like the paint job on a grand piano, and fair skin that was completely and utterly _flawless_! (Meaning no mole u)The last feature of this man was that behind small steel rims hid brilliant golden eyes, the color of the shining sun. In short… 2p Austria was a drop dead gorgeous, girl (and guy) magnet. He stopped next to Allen and smirked at all the expressions on the 1p's faces. His golden eyes scanned over all of them, as if trying to pick someone in particular out of the group.

"He actually looks more normal compared to a few others." Spain piped up. This caught Allen and Grigorovich's attention, and they both started laughing. Grigori looked at Antonio with an almost evil look in his eyes, and flashed him a smile. Spain wasn't the only 1p completely surprised at what the smile showed. The smile shone was a sharp-toothed grin. All of Grigori's teeth were like small, white daggers.

"I zink you stand corrected my friend." 2p Austria chuckles darkly, "I'm actually one of ze deadlier 2p's." And with that being said, Grigori turns on his heel and walks over to bother Akbar. His departure seemed simple, but Gilbert's jaw was dropped. It had been the whole time.

"Gilbert? Are you okay?" France and Spain ask, trying not to draw attention.

"#1, he is fucking gorgeous. #2, he kept staring at me. #3, he just winked at me as he turned around to leave." came Gilbert's reply. The BTT were brought out of their mini conversation when Allen asked who they wanted to meet next.


	3. The 2p Axis Powers

All of the 2p's they had already met are now standing next to their 1p. After the shock of meeting almost all of the 2p's, only the 2p Axis Powers plus 2p Southern Italy were left. Plus, Alfred had a question…

"Yo! I totally forgot to ask! Who is the 2p that shot at me when I opened the door?" All the other 1p's finally recalled that particular moment in time and looked at Allen expectantly. Allen only groaned in annoyance.

With a sigh he replied, "The annoying Italian fashion freak. Flavio! Get over here!" Allen obviously didn't like whichever half of Italy had shot at his 1p. Allen looked to his left, and the 1p's followed his gaze to see a blonde man. This blonde was wearing a white jacket, red shirt, white pants, black gloves, a blue scarf, black shoes, and orange sunglasses! He was in fact, actually pretty fashionable, but he walked like he was some sort of model. What was scary about it, was that his facial features closely resembled those of Romano. With a quick wave of his hand he introduced himself,

"Hello! I'm-a 2p Southern Italia! It is-a nice to-a meet you! Sorry for-a shooting at you-a earlier, 1p America. My name is-a Flavio!" Flavio smiled brightly and was much kinder than Romano.

"Something to know about Flavio, he tends to criticize people's fashion sense randomly and will try to drag you off to some mall to get you new clothes. That and he is really good at pissing people off with how annoying he is. Now go stand next to Romano and leave me alone!" Allen pushed Flavio away and turned to the Axis Powers. Flavio sat next to Romano with a girlish huff.

"Axis. You're all that's left. Who goes first?" The three of them thought quietly and whispered amongst themselves. Germany finally turned bravely to Allen.

"2p Germany." Allen nodded upwards and a soft thud was heard as another blonde hit the ground after jumping from some unknown place. The man stood up and it was quite easy to tell he was 2p Germany. His blonde hair was messily slicked back, he had a scar across his left cheek, he had a hat on his head, a white tank-top on, tan uniform, black gloves, a black cross around his neck, scars on his arms, and black leather boots that his pants were tucked into. His jacket was connected by the collar to stay on his shoulders where it was resting. His violet eyes scanned everyone lazily and looked rather sleepy.

"Gutan tag… I am Lutz. Add an 'S' on ze beginning of zhat and I vill punch you in ze face vith brass knuckles." Lutz smirked perversely at the thought and two snickers came from above, along with the BTT who obviously thought it funny. Ludwig got flustered at the thought of his 2p saying such a crude comment.

"Lutz can be slightly perverted sometimes and is actually incredibly lazy. He can sleep up to 12 times a day and still have enough time through out the day to get his chores done at his own pace. Honestly, I don't know how he does it. He is still someone you wouldn't want to go into battle with though, and you definitely don't want to piss him off. He is rather level-headed most of the time, thank God, and if you want to stay on his good side… Give him a beer." Allen then looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Uh… I'd ask who you want next but I think they already decided."

Lutz snapped into focus, eyes widening, and tried to sprint away from where he was standing. He failed though, and let out a harsh yelp when something landed on top of him. When they looked at the thing that had landed on top of Lutz, they recognized it as a man. An Italian man if you want to be exact. He sat atop the annoyed German who simply sat there tapping his fingers on the ground, resting his head on his hand. 2p Northern Italy had brown hair, tan skin, a brown uniform, black combat boots, a plethora of golden throwing knives, a riding crop attached to his hip, and a small brown hat with a purple feather.

Although he looked normal sitting there picking underneath his fingernails, the look in his eyes said otherwise. His dark maroon eyes held cruelty, ruthlessness, everything you would find in the eyes of a sadist. Italy looked up with a wicked smirk, at Allen. And Allen smirked right back…

"That is Luciano Vargas." Allen said simply.

Luciano sighed in exasperation, "Jeez! It is-a so hard to-a get blood out from-a underneath your-a fingernails! I have-a been trying for the-a past five minutes!" He glowered down at his fingers and decided to give up.

"Oh! I know what you mean Poppet~. Once blood gets under your fingernails and it dries, it is such a pain to get out!" Oliver piped up from next to Arthur. Lots of other 2ps muttered in agreement.

Luciano looked up and smiled kindly at Oliver. It seemed lots of 2ps had a respect for 2p England. Then Luciano saw his 1p and his smirk grew bigger.

Quicker than you could say 'bloody pasta', 2p Italy was by his 1p and had him in a death grip; looking him up and down. "Well aren't-a you-a an adorable thing-a~." Luciano smiled as Feli started to cower slightly. 2p Germany started snickering and another laugh was heard from the only person they hadn't met.

Kiku stood in anticipation, not really sure if he wanted to meet his 2p or not. But he knew it was inevitable. "So, what about my 2p?" Japan finally spoke up. No made a move to take Feli from Luciano, and he was growing tired of the awkward silence. Allen looked up at him.

"Oh, yeah! Koru! Get down here dude, you're the las-." Allen was interrupted by a rather concerned Gilbert.

"Allen? Is this normal for my 2p?" Everyone turned and looked and saw that it looked like Akbar wasn't breathing. It worried a lot of the 1ps, but the 2ps just started laughing.

"Yes, Gilbert. That is normal. He is fine. Akbar has the ability to remain completely frozen to the point of looking like a mannequin. It makes him an amazing hunter. He does that when he feels threatened, or just wants to creep someone the Hell out. He also has a habit of appearing out of nowhere, but yeah. He's fine." Allen finished talking just as a man dropped down next to him.

This man looked almost exactly like Kiku. Koru wore a black Japanese uniform with a violet silk cape and black boots. He had two Katana swords strapped onto is waist and had dull red eyes that seemed so possessive that it was almost demonic.

"This is Koru Honda. He can be a bit obsessive and pervy, but he can be a really good company keeper and is always up for a challenge! He is very determined and actually rather fearless." Koru smiled and gave a slight bow.

"Kon'nichiwa." Koru then went and stood next to Kiku.

"Alllllllll-righty then! Now, to get to know each other better let's play a game! Who's up for Truth or Dare?!" Lot's of the 2ps snickered and agreed to see what the 1ps would be willing enough to do. All the 2ps sat in a half circle across from their 1p who sat in the other half circle. And all the 1ps thought the same thing…

'Thanks a lot England.'

_Sorry this chapter came so late. I have been busy with school, my weird family, and a couple of other assorted things. Please review any changes you think I should make, or if I got something wrong. Hasta la Pasta!_


	4. The Beginning

{Sorry I haven't updated in forever! And I'm also sorry that 2p Austria is kinda OC-ed. I don't know much about him, but I would assume the opposite of an Aristocrat would be a punk. Enjoy chapter 4! 3 of the pairings begin to take place here}

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><p>After an hour of bribing, begging, threatening, cowering, wishing they'd kept their mouths shut, and politely asking… The 1p's finally managed to get out of playing Truth or Dare with the 2p's. Unfortunately this led to the 1p's each drawing a 2p name out of a bag, and that 2p therefore had to stay with that particular 1p until they could figure out a different arrangement….<p>

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><p>Arthur Kirkland (1p England) and Frank Bonnefoy (2p France)<p>

Frank told Arthur he was going to read a book on the couch. A harmless thing that Arthur allowed. But what the Brit didn't expect, was what was in front of him right now.

"Umm. Frank?" The French man didn't even look up.

"Hmm?"

"May I ask you a question?"

"You just did." Gathering his courage, Arthur asked,

"Why exactly, are you sitting upside down?" England had expected him to lay stretched out along the length of the couch, but oh was he wrong. For Frank was sitting on the middle section of the couch, upside down.

"I'm not zitting upzide down. I am zitting perfectly normal. You are the one on the ceiling, non?" The drunkard looked up at the Brit, "And it is rude to ztare you know."

Not really wanting to mess with him too much, Arthur looked away then sat down next to Frank silently. It was silent for a little while before Frank surprisingly spoke.

"Why are you zitting upside down? It is distracting." The British man looked down at the Frenchman in bewilderment.

"I'm not sitting upside down! I'm sitting bloody upright. _You're_ the one sitting upside down." Arthur blinked in surprise as Frank let the smallest of smirks grace his hard, lazy features. And what he said next startled him beyond what the poor Brit thought possible…

"I like you. You're zo much better than the ever annoying Oliver." Frank turned his attentions back to his book, but not before seeing England blush oh-so-lightly.

"T-thanks." England got up and walked to his study to avoid the Frenchman for a little while.

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><p>Gilbert Beilschmidt (1p Prussia) and Grigori Edelstein (2p Austria)<p>

"Left, Right, Straight ahead. There's no way out your dead. LEFT, RIGHT, STRIAGHT AHEAD! YOU'RE IN THE LABYRINTH! Left, Right, Straight ahead; Left, Right, Straight ahead…" Gilbert sat, watching in awe as Grigori sang song, after song, after song. And trust him, Grigori was a really good singer. His bright teeth flashing as he smiled. In a group of people, Grigori was quiet. But when it was just one other person… He was loud and actually, really random.

Some other things Gil noticed about 2p Austria, is that he always pulled some sort of candy out of his pockets, and wouldn't drink alcohol. He looked to be about 19 physically, but he was witty and quick to come up with a plan. He could play any instrument EXCEPT a piano, and in 1p Prussia's standards… He was AWESOME! Even if he didn't drink beer.

"Knock, knock – let me in. Let me be your secret sin. Knock, knock – Knock, knock. Knock, knock – Let me in. Let me be your secret sin… LEFT, RIGHT STRAIGHT AHEAD! YOU'RE IN THE LABYRINTH…" Gil watched as Grigori finished his song about a minute later.

"Vow! Unlike stiff old Roderick, you can actually sing." He found it hard to believe Grigori was actually part of Roderick. He was handsome, he could sing, he loved candy, he didn't drink beer, and he dressed like a fucking punk when he wasn't in public.

As soon as Gil brought him to his home, Grigori changed into ripped, black skinny jeans that vanished into knee-high lace-up black boots of leather, a black tank-top that was short on him, blue lip paint, black eye make-up, a chain attached to his belt that held a silver pocket watch (which he had with him in the first place anyway), and chain wrist-wraps.

Gilbert hadn't talked to him too much. He was content on drooling over Grigori, and thinking about what happened when 2p Austria was first introduced. He could have sworn that he winked at him!

"Aw! You like mein shinging? Cool! I don't get many compliments." A wide, sharp-toothed smile spread across Gori's face. He stuck a lollipop in his mouth and jumped over the side of the couch Gil was on, and sat next to him. "So, vhat do you do for fun around here?"

Gil was distracted with perverted thoughts for minute before answering, "Uh. Normally I like to piss off your 1p." he answered honestly.

2p Austria's nose wrinkled, "Zhat guy is shuch a shtuck up priss!" Gil burst out laughing,

"I've never agreed vith someone about somezhing more zhan I agree vith you now!" Gil's eyes were closed as he laughed, so he missed Grigori take the lollipop out of his mouth and the glint in his eyes as his snake of a tongue flicked over his lips...

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><p>Feliciano (1p Northern Italy) and Lutz (2p Germany)<p>

Feli was still shocked at how different Lutz was from Ludwig. He knew the 2p's had the exact opposite personalities of the 1p's, but it was still so shocking! Lutz was sprawled on the couch, his arms crossed behind his head, eyes closed. Feli assumed he had fallen asleep, so he went to make some pasta! He made lots of it without even meaning to, and ended up making the kitchen a mess.

He was in the middle of making the sauce when a voice startled him, "So, making pasta? Is zhere enough for two?" Feli turned around to see Lutz leaning against the door frame, expressionless and calm. Feli's usual ditzy smile crossed his face.

"Si! There is-a plenty for another-a person! There is-a beer in the-a fridge if you-a want it!" Italy went back to cooking.

Lutz grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat down at the table, kicking his feet up onto it and tipping the chair back against the wall. He watched Italy intently, taking in the different actions between him and Luciano. In his perspective, this Italy was much cuter, smaller, and obviously weaker. He got scared easily, and his purity of mind was adorable.

Lutz eyed the sauce Feli had been making, used to eating Luciano's "Special Sauce", he was curious as to what Feliciano put into his sauce. The little Italian laid out the meal on the table then sat next to the German man with his usual "V" sound.

Lutz picked at it a little, and then asked, "Vhat's in ze sauce?"

"Tomatoes, garlic, and some oregano!" Feli chirped happily.

Feeling and hearing his stomach growl loudly, Lutz quickly dug into the pasta. Enjoying the taste very much. "Mein gott zis is gut!" he spoke between mouthfuls of the delicious food.

A wide smile broke out across Italy's face. "Ve! I'm glad you-a like it. Doitsu never usually compliments my-a cooking!" They ate in peace for the next few minutes before Feli started to put all the dishes away into the sink.

Lutz then spent the next six or so minutes staring at Italy, and thinking about what a nice ass he had…


End file.
